I decided to join an adult co-ed softball team. I dusted off my old cleats… then threw them away because they were so old they were literally flaking apart. I was able to pick up a new pair for $5 at Dick’s Sporting Goods. This was partly due to my family giving me a gift card for my birthday and partly because the shoes were totally miss-priced.
I chose to do this on my own sheepishly telling Tré I signed up for a thing. He told me he knew — seriously nothing is private on Facebook. But, even without prior discussion he supported me. This meant five of his free Sunday evenings would be spent getting our three wild children to bed. His usual work schedule has him working Sunday nights so they are a precious rarity in the summer. But, as usual he didn’t complain.
I was nervous, but tried not to let me nerves win out over playing a game I love. I went to the few practices that were held before our first game. One time I brought Vivianne and she shouted encouragement to me every time I made a play. “Great job Mom!” “I love you Mom!” Mom, can I have a hug?”
I liked that she got to see me play. I know I’m not in peak shape –not even close, but getting out there and playing anyway. I hope she remembers that playing isn’t about perfection. I hope she wants to try even when she doesn’t feel “perfect” some day. And I admit as I played third base my heart swelled each time I heard her little voice cheering from the dugout.
The sad part was that my actual games were pretty late at night (6:15 or 8:45) and always double-headers. It was evident after my first game that the girls could not handle it. Tré was run ragged trying to keep track of all three of them. They kept coming in the dugout to be with me, but it wasn’t exactly safe in there.
Vivi would have probably been fine, but the other two wanted to do everything she was doing and weren’t as safe. I ended my first game by helping Tré take the girls (in screaming, raging fits) to the van. They didn’t get to come to any more games.
I wanted Vivianne to come, but double-headers meant she’d be watching me for 2 1/2 hours. I couldn’t leave her unsupervised for that long so I lost my cheering section. But, I soldiered on and played well with my team.
They were a fun group scattered all over Yakima. We were the “Adrenalien Junkies.” I’m pretty sure we ended up last in the league. We started with 20 adults and ended with 7 at the last game, but that’s the nature of life. I missed two games myself – one from sickness, the other because I decided to go out boating with friends.
Overall I’m glad I chose to do this. One of my eight boiled-down reasons that I want to lose weight is so that I can play. Just play. Play with my kids. Play softball. Play volleyball. Play games. Play on the water. Play in the snow. This extra weight is hampering my ability to enjoy playing.
I don’t want the achy joints, the shaking belly, the wobbly arms — I don’t know how many times I fell down playing softball. For. No. Reason. I’d be rounding second and I’d fall. I’d be going to catch a ball and I’d fall. I’d ground a ball and I’d fall. I’m so sick of losing my balance and not being able to get back up.
I want to play and play well. My life is an example to my daughters. The good, the bad, the ugly, the choice to fall and then get back up. I’m raising amazon princesses -they are witnesses to it all. I will not let my children starve for a good role model while I “perfect” myself on the side-lines. I’m jumping in with all my flaws because life is happening now, not after I complete my next diet.